The Raven and the Dragon
by Topgallant
Summary: Malchior, trapped in his book, finds himself in a strange place, with strange company.  He discovers that he is not the only one who can be tricky.  Crossover with a familiar Disney film...Sleeping Beauty.


A raven alights on a bare branch, one stripped of leaves or colors, brittle, dry and bending with the bird's weight.

A raven. _Raven_.

I think I shall hate that creature for eternity- That shall be quite enough time for my animosity to grow even more, like a seed planted, carefully watered until it will burgeon in time to become a monstrous tree of hate, bearing ripe fruits laden with poison.

The raven cackles, seeing only a white tome on the ground, mocking my misfortune and pitiable state. It eyes me keenly, a sharp eye fixated on my book.

Ah yes. Book.

Rorek, the court magician- the court _jester_, managed against all conceivable odds to imprison me within this vile volume, as one final counter-attack. I still calculate how he could summon the fortitude required to accomplish such attack when he very nearly was overpowered by me.

It seems impossible, but there was no denying that I, the great dragon Malchior, was defeated by an overconfident, egregious little spell-flinger.

Twice, in a way, to record things more precisely.

Fate, kismet, divine providence, consequence…pure _chance_, led a young girl Raven to read my book, and she fast became enraptured and utterly ensnared. She found the novel engrossing and compelling, realizing it difficult to turn away.

I saw my opportunity arise. I had little time.

I began to share long talks with Raven, transposing Rorek's name with mine, sowing her mind with lies, feeding her words of encouragement. She was like a young child needing to be nurtured and guided. I would make her laugh, share with her ancient stories and my knowledge, as if secretly preparing to delicately lace poison on the lip of a king's chalice.

So it was with Raven.

She began to trust me so soon, hang on my every word and accept my teachings, performing as any well-behaved student would…and more. I could tell that she developed romantic feelings for me; I had assured this from the beginning when first I heard her speak to herself.

I told her compassionately how I was the only one who understood her, the only one who understood darkness. How could I not? I am, essentially, just as dark as she, though she did not, of course, realize the true extent of just _how_ dark.

Raven was learning to love me. She had drunk the poison.

For so long a time, it seemed, I used all my guile and cunning to fool the girl, casting over her a cloak of treachery and deceit with hues far darker than even her own solemn eyes. She blindly stumbled beneath it, seeking shade and protection but receiving heartbreak.

Then approached the time when she began to distrust me, if only for a brief instant. I smoothly explained to her how dark magic was misunderstood; like her. That quickly subdued her outburst against me. However, I knew I needed to act then, lest I wait and invite disaster…or her realization that I was not who…and _what_ I seemed.

She performed the spell exactly as I instructed her; she was, despite her gullibility, an apt learner. I remember the look of absolute shock and despair molded onto her admittedly comely countenance when she released me. Raven had expected a fantastical wizard to immerge from the age-worn pages of my book, not a dragon- _the_ dragon.

Her love was proven to be unrequited.

She was crushed. But not, as it turned out, tamed.

The horrible witch cursed me back into the book, using the very same spell I had taught her, the very same spell Rorek had uttered over a millennia ago. My fleeting moment of freedom after long years of imprisonment was stolen away from me unjustly…by a child.

_It was my comeuppance_, I can say, but I feel that this is only trying to lighten the foul curse that has bound my very soul. I shall go mad with that thought someday, I believe.

The raven still regards me balefully, uttering a vile screech. I long to blast the bird into oblivion and beyond, but alas, I am weak and unable to do anything but lie on the sodden earth. I am, in all respects, a book.

At least I am free of the chest that Raven stored me within following my return to these pages. From what I can glean from the events that occurred after, a demon of epic proportions had overtaken the tower- Titans Tower, as Raven had named it.

I learned only his name; Trigon. The Tower would shatter and shake, and it was evident that a cataclysmic battle was transpiring outside. I could sense, even in this state, sapped of strength and power, that great sorcery was being used. Magic vibrated and quivered like taut strings in the air.

Finally, the last thing I can remember of that time was light; light flooding everywhere. My vision burned; had I eyes to shut, I suspect I would have clawed them out, as a way to avoid even more pain. How could it invade my private little box with such intensity?

The light gave no relief, encompassing every single word within my pages entirely, enfolding me in a cage of blazing white energy that tormented me for endless hours.

And so I find myself here on the damp earth, glaring up uselessly at a haughty raven and withered tree. With luck, Titans Tower has been decimated…but then I would be sitting in a pile of smoking rubble, not…wherever I currently reside.

"Well, my pet? What have we here?" a voice purrs beyond my limited range of vision. The trim of fine black robes brushes lightly against my binding, sending a tickling sensation racking my entire being.

Pale green, well manicured hands with prominent, blood-red colored nails drag along the face of my book. "What an elegant novel," the voice exclaims coldly, "'tis a pity to be abandoned in so forlorn a place." It is distinctly female, and she chuckles remorselessly. Curious.

Despite my undesirable situation, I am intrigued beyond any hope of release.

"What do you think, should I take it with me, my pet?" She asks, her tone suggesting she had already chosen her decision. The raven hops back and forth on its perch, almost gleefully.

Another chuckle.

The raven swoops towards the woman, to land on her shoulder, I assume. Then I am swept up and tucked under her generously black-draped arm. I feel an infuriating tingling sensation as the world fades from view too rapidly for even _me_ to asses my surroundings, hampering my hope of finding more about my current location.

Hitherto, I deemed I held some shred of perspective on my situation. Now I was lost.

A millisecond later, my vision swims, but at least it is restored to me. I now gaze upon the interior of a castle, a sickly greenish hue emanating from seemingly the very walls. I appear to be in some private chamber, though only a fraction of it is visible. The woman is very careful to keep me ensconced within her robes.

Gently, I am lain down on a dark wooden desk, and a gloriously terrible figure looms above me.

Gleaming yellow eyes stare down on me intently, fixed in an angular, high cheek-boned face, with magnificently arching eyebrows and luscious red lips. They are pursed together in concentration, though there is still dark humor about the woman.

She had donned a ferocious horned helm, and appears to be wearing intricate armor, but I can not see past her neckline.

A slim, spider-like finger traces patterns on the face of my book, and she says softly, "Ah, but what a find we have. A find most gratifying." She pauses, considering something. "An enchanted book…" she lowers her voice, "…but how so?"

I sense that this is my time to reveal myself.

"Why, lady," I say, eliciting a look of only mild surprise from the woman, "you seem not to have the courtesy to introduce yourself." I say sharply. This feat will require a tactic far different than that I used with Raven. I flip to the page with Rorek's eyes.

Her features soften to something of amusement.

"A book that speaks!" She cries, leaning in, her voice lowering to one reminiscent of a hiss, "How charming. _Do_ forgive me for my lack of manners." I know her reply is coated with sarcasm.

From somewhere in the distance, I hear her raven caw maddeningly.

"Of course." I say. "I would expect nothing less of a sorceress. You haven't the time to meddle with a trapped wizard, I'm sure."

I see that the woman smiles, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head to the side slightly. My assumption was correct.

"Your name is lost on me, _wizard_," she replies, "but if you would care to grant it to me…?" She asks slowly, and the spark in her eyes suggests her statement had more meaning than a mere question.

"Malchior. It is an honor, madam."

Another glint in her eyes. Her raven flies down and lands on her shoulder, staring at me solemnly. The creature seems subdued.

The woman gives me one last cursory glance before reaching beyond my vision and draping me under a dark, rich cloth. I can hear the rustle of her robes as she exits the room.

The first session has been completed. I must find out more.

-x-

The woman returns shortly; I can hear her enter. She treads softly, even on the stone floor of a castle- for that is where I am now certain I am situated.

"Malchior," she speaks quietly, approaching the desk but making no move to remove the covering that obscures my vision. "I am Maleficent, and you are a guest within my home. I shall take it upon me to entertain you. It is my duty as your hostess, after all."

She laughs enigmatically and leaves me in silence yet again.

-x-

We could talk for long periods of time, and I spoke more freely than I did with Raven. The girl was a mere shadow compared to Maleficent, who was like the sky at night. She too sensed that I was no beneficent wizard- she knew that I was no devout follower of light.

We did not divulge great secrets of one another, but grew genuinely closer. We two are not ones to outpour our mysteries so easily, as Raven had. Her mistake shows what a dangerous thing it is.

I was, eventually, read by Maleficent, and the names were transposed yet again. However, when she abruptly left the room, a knowing, dark smile gracing her lips, it was obvious she was quite aware of the true nature of the story.

I was never let outside of the room I was kept within, but after Maleficent's discovery, we spoke of things less guardedly.

She proved herself to have wit and finery, and shared with me tales of a princess who constantly eluded her searches. I, in turn, related my experience with Raven. Maleficent laughed scornfully at the girl's actions, remarking that we both had troublesome young ladies to deal with.

I even began to like her raven better.

-x-

"Malchior," Maleficent says smoothly as she glides towards my desk. I am no longer kept veiled, and she has agreed to research the spell that will allow me to be released from my book. I quickly surmised that Maleficent was not fond of being taught something if she could learn it herself.

She revealed to me in a conversation some months past that she has a vast collection of tomes in her library, and her spell books are unrivaled throughout the kingdom.

Yes, kingdom.

Somehow, the battle with Trigon triggered some magical reaction that sent me hurtling into the past, and possibly into another dimension. Maleficent and I had labored long hours to research the cause of my being sent here. She had, in her readings, come across the name Trigon, and explained that he was associated with alternate dimensions.

We did not explore the subject farther, being content where we were. At the moment, Maleficent's main concern was the eradication of that annoying princess. Apparently, she had been cursed to die when she pricked her finger on a spindle at the tender age of sixteen, yet a bothersome fairy had intervened, changing the curse's consequence to that of living sleep.

However, the young princess had vanished a few years ago, a constant irritation to Maleficent, who was intent on rooting her out. It had become an obsession, I noticed, and she would gain certain fervor when speaking of the subject.

Maleficent trailed her fingers lightly over my pages, her eyes aglow. "The spell was simple to learn." She says, bending her face closer so that I can feel and smell her very breath. Fragrant like the deadly nightshade berries. "So very simple."

Neither of us had felt the need to summon a body out of pages for me, knowing well what creature I truly am. Nor did I need to weave lies for Maleficent; she and I hold an understanding and respect of one another. That is all we need.

"I had faith in you." I reply in a bored, almost somnolent manner. My outward behavior conceals the excitement and adrenaline rush through me.

For so long I have waited and worked for this.

So many, many years.

I have faced many bitter disappointments, like with Raven. I was given freedom, only to have it wrenched away from me so soon. I didn't realize until now that I've become like a starved dog, throwing all caution aside and pouncing on the nearest morsel I may find.

Maleficent smiles like a cat, drawing back from my book and flinging her arms wide suddenly, her sleeves hanging loose but magnificently, like wings.

"Lleps ym tasc, eltasc S'nafets dnuor!

Llew em evres dna, esruc eht htiw og won…

mood fog of a no seiks eht hguorht evom!

Bmot sih eb llahs snroht fo tserof eht!" She intones, her voice loud and powerful. It is easy to hear the magic threaded through those words, and even Maleficent's raven is not here to witness the event. For that, admittedly, am I thankful.

The spell is different from the one used by Raven and Rorek, quite different.

But the spell is efficacious, and I feel myself being ripped from the book, a dull throb pounding in my temples as I begin to take shape. It was never a comfortable process, and Maleficent's spell is unknown to me.

Everything speeds past as a blur, but I can hear Maleficent's triumphant laughter dimly from some place far below, as if at a great distance. I never did realize how vast the ceiling of this chamber was, but it is huge, large enough to hold me. However, I must lower my long neck, my head almost ground level to avoid smashing violently through the ceiling.

Finally, everything is as it should be. I am restored to my form, and Maleficent seems jubilant, knowing she has aid against the princess she so despises. My head swivels around me, taking in a new view of the room. It looks so changed now, so…small. My senses are heightened, and I itch to fly again, to tear through the castle walls in an effort to be truly free of the time of my bondage.

As if sensing my thoughts, Maleficent shrieks, "Go! I care not for what damage you cause, 'tis but stone. Go, go!"

I shoot up, my strong legs propelling me upwards easily, darting into the sky as fast as I could go. I break through the stone easily, and it comes tumbling down. In my haste, I pay no thought to Maleficent, who might become trapped below. I know she has the ability to protect herself, however, so I do not hold this thought in abeyance.

A starved dog I am indeed. I grew too complacent, and now I, in my true form, after being trapped in a book, thought myself unbeatable, the last dragon, who, powerful in my own right, needn't fear another contender.

I did not expect a resounding crash behind and below me, resonating from within the castle. I turn lithely, mid-flight, to see another black and purple dragon pursuing me.

Maleficent.

There is no mistaking her. It should have seemed obvious from the very start, but I was foolish, and I did not see it. Raven was simple to deceive, and I became overconfident, taking things as they were, not finding, indeed, or even _seeking_ what could be hidden beneath.

The darkness cloaks and shelters those that love it.

That flash of light that brought me here had blinded me to that fact.

I have little time to react, but feign left, which she follows. Then I dive down and am about snap her neck it two, my maws wide. Yet, she does something entirely unexpected in a remarkable amount of time. Maleficent swings her tail around to crash into my side, and I lurch to avoid it, ducking beneath her.

Maleficent now speed after me, forearms extended. With a great beat of her wings for additional boost, she rams herself against my back, and I crash down into the earth at the base of the mountain. It has been years since I've had a fair chance at flying.

I still recover quickly, however, and spin around, about to leap back into the sky to gain an advantage when Maleficent lands swiftly beside me, lashing her tail against my exposed neck, yet gently, I am surprised to find. However, it is still enough force to cause me to lower my neck to the ground.

But she isn't done yet.

Maleficent keeps her clawed hand pressed against the sensitive section of my neck, where the soft flesh is situated right under my head to make certain I will not attempt to move. I don't.

Then, she sidles closer, still careful to keep me immobilized. Her body is now against mine, and, assured that I won't dash away or lash out, she removes the sharp pressure.

Her next action stuns me further. She lets out a long, low rumble. A very, very content one.

Ah, the wiles of women. It seems I am not the only one to deceive others.

* * *

Hurrah for the handy ruler button! 

The spell that Maleficent said when freeing Malchior is the backwards version of the curse she lays in the movie. The words are reversed, and order of words is reversed as well.

"The forest of thorns shall be his tomb! Move through the skies on a fog of doom! Now go with the curse, and serve me well! Round Stefan's castle, cast my spell!"

I will probably revisit Malchior in the future...maybe with a MalxBlackfire pairing. Still, I have a name for MalxMaleficent.

Malefichor. Heh.


End file.
